Chapter 10
Soren stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow in the dim room. The overwhelming emotional relief of finding his family alive was rapidly being replaced by the cold, calculating mindset of a mafia boss at war. He reached down and gently helped Lara to her feet, wrapping a strong arm around her frail waist to support her weight.
"Can you make it to the elevator, Lara?" Soren asked, his voice returning to its measured, authoritative tone. "Are you strong enough to walk out of here?"
"I can walk," Lara nodded, holding tightly to his side, her eyes finding a new spark of determination. Mia clung to her mother's hand, looking up at her father with wide, trusting eyes.
Soren turned his attention back to Verity. "Will you carry my weapon, Verity?" he asked, nodding toward the heavy pistol he had discarded on the floor. "Do you know how to use it if the need arises?"
Verity didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, her black maid dress swishing softly, and scooped the heavy firearm off the carpet. It felt massive and cold in her delicate hands, but she gripped it firmly.
"I will point it at anyone who tries to stop us," Verity promised, her expressive eyes locking onto his.
"Did I not say you were an angel?" Soren asked, a fleeting, dangerous smile touching his sharp jawline. "Let's move."
They moved out of the master suite and back into the bright, luminous corridor. The silence was unnerving. The two tactical guards had not returned, and the floor remained deserted. They reached the brass doors of the private elevator, and Soren pressed the call button.
"What happens when the doors open downstairs, Soren?" Lara asked, her voice trembling as she leaned against him. "Cressida has half the family on her side."
"Do you believe she has any power left now that I have found you?" Soren asked, his cold eyes watching the floor indicator slowly descend. "Did you think I would let her live after this?"
The elevator chimed. The brass doors slid open.
They stepped inside, the four of them filling the small, mirrored space. As the elevator began its descent toward the main ballroom, the tension in the air became electric. Soren knew that Cressida would not have remained idle. She would have rallied her loyalists, barricaded the exits, and prepared for a final, bloody confrontation to retain her stolen power.
"Are you ready to leave this place?" Soren asked his wife and daughter, his voice a low, comforting rumble.
"Yes," they whispered in unison.
Soren looked at Verity, who was holding the gun steady, her white apron glowing in the bright light of the elevator car. She was no longer just a housemaid; she was a soldier in a war she had ignited to save his soul.
"Are you ready to see an empire burn, Verity?" Soren asked, his eyes hardening into twin points of icy resolve as the elevator neared the ground floor.
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"I am ready, sir," Verity replied.
The elevator chimed loudly. The brass doors began to slide open, revealing the chaotic, screaming reality of a mafia syndicate tearing itself apart. The bright, cinematic lighting of the ballroom flooded into the car, illuminating the dangerous, handsome king who was finally stepping back onto his battlefield.
